Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 2 | The Farm

by Craven III, Boyd

  What the agents did not realize was, they had wandered into a field with a creature so vile, so mean, that if they had half a lick of sense, they would have turned to run, fleeing. The monstrous being weighed more than some consumer pick up trucks, and had an attitude like he had a bug up his ass and no way to pick it out. All Big Red saw was strawmen. He hated strawmen, especially the funny hats they sometimes wore. Those enraged the bull more than the human shaped beings. He had gotten one stuck on his head once as a calf, and it had terrified him. The more he ran, the faster he went, the more it had gotten stuck around his neck and flopped over his eyes. The baby bull then had knocked itself out on a tree it could not see coming.

  Red’s fear of hats had morphed into a hatred that would have made Satan scared. Not only were these strawmen moving in his field, near the heifers he wanted to breed, they were wearing funny hats, ones that made him seethe in a psychotic rage that neared the heat of the sun in intensity.

  “Jonsey says he’s got a big thermal mass moving our way,” one agent said to another.

  “Probably a fucking cow, one we are not here for. Yet.” Sullivan said. “Alpha team, breach.”

  “Breaching.”

  Everything seemed to stop for agent Sullivan. He had been standing behind a tree, six feet from the fence, when a little over two thousand pounds of beef hit him from behind. His head just crumpled like a rotten watermelon, his neck broken. Gunfire erupted all around, wasps punching small holes in the bull. None of them hit anywhere else but the bull’s main torso, not penetrating any vitals. Not only had the strawmen made him nervous with the funny hats, now they had hurt him, stinging him over and over.

  Big Red went insane.

  The 9mm bullets could only penetrate through so much hard flesh and muscle before they lost momentum. The agents who were shooting the MP5s had a little better luck hurting the beast, because of the longer barrel giving the bullet some extra velocity, but none were instant kill shots, which is what would have been needed to stop the massacre that was about to happen.

  “Bravo breaching,” a team further down the tree line told Sullivan, who was unable to pick up the line.

  “He’s charging!” one of the agents on Sullivan’s five-man team screamed.

  Two of them were caught reloading as the bull charged them down. Big Red hit one with his shoulder and ran right over the other one, making sure to step on the soft parts of the strawman’s body, right under the round shape on top. The strawman that Big Red shoulder checked tried to get to his feet, but there was something broken in his chest. Big Red heard him making a noise out of his round hole in his head, so he charged. The two remaining agents who were alive were still firing but watched in horror as another agent was ran down, and this time the big bull stepped on the agent’s face.

  “Shoot for the head,” one screamed to the other.

  Big Red was already charging, but the subsonic ammunition had not done much damage until a lucky round hit him right in the middle of the eyes. Momentum was in play, as much as Big Red’s brain not quite realizing what had happened, and the bull hit the two, falling on their bodies, crushing the life out of them.

  “Bravo team, what’s the shooting?” Alpha team lead called over the radio.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Bravo team lead replied back.

  “One of my men reported hearing suppressed gunfire, and we can’t reach commander Sullivan,” he answered.

  “Agent Sullivan. Commander Sullivan, do you copy?” Alpha team lead called.

  Nothing.

  “Charlie team, this is Alpha team lead, for any member of Charlie, do you have a copy?”

  Nothing.

  “Maybe the folks at the farm took them out,” Bravo said softly. “The rumors we heard from Agent Sullivan checked out. It was all on the news.”

  “Fuck that shit, I don’t believe all of that, do you?” Alpha team lead asked.

  “Yeah, I sort of do. I know who one of the residents is, and she’s capable of taking out a whole team silently.”

  “You talking that model?” another agent from Alpha asked.

  “Yeah, she’s popular, and I had a chance to meet her once. She is not only a marksman, but she’s also a quick draw and if there is any gunpowder in it, she can use it better than any man alive. She’s just that fucking good.”

  “Dammit, but it’s dark and we all have on thermals or night vision,” Alpha team lead said.

  “Let’s call in a new team to check for Charlie.”

  “This OP is already going to shit, we’ll do it,” Bravo team lead said.

  “Roger. We’ll continue to barns and assess, and get back in touch.”

  Harry had been playing a lot of video games since school had been canceled due to the virus. With most of the grownups sick, they had tried to avoid giving him the icky sticky Wu Flu as Steven called it. That meant his daily schedule did not mean much as long as he got up to check on the chickens for his dad, who was now sick too. He had fallen asleep right after lunch time and when he woke up, it was dark. He did not think he was getting sick, but he knew he would not be going right back to bed. He debated firing up Call of Duty on his Xbox, but decided to get the eggs first. That way if he got tired and fell back asleep, he would not get in trouble. He got his socks on and padded down the upstairs hallway on nearly silent feet. He heard a dog let out a soft woof, and as he went down the stairs, he saw Ranger had joined him.

  “I’ll feel better if you’re with me,” Harry said. “I know it’s too early for me to go out there, but the sun is probably coming up any minute now,” he said quietly.

  He pulled his muck boots on and headed outside, letting the dog out and shutting the door quietly. The moon was out in full force, illuminating the yard almost as well as the mercury light did. With his dog at his side, he did not have a worry, and headed to the chicken barn. A sound had both him and Ranger turning, to see Roscoe joining them. He had pushed the screen door of Andrea and Curt’s cabin open, and was joining them for the fun. In the dark, Roscoe had a goofy doggy grin going, awake and happy to see his two favorite people.

  “There’s the chicken barn,” Bravo team lead said.

  “Check. Thermals just show the siding. We will have to go in to get a visual.”

  “Copy. Let’s stack up at the door,” Bravo team lead said, always having been salty for being turned down to join the police department, where he eventually wanted to lead a swat team.

  “Forming up,” he heard without the need from the radio as the man behind him put a hand on his shoulder. “Wait one, we have movement and light coming from the house this way.”

  Rob wasn’t sleeping for shit. He had been in the spare bedroom and tested positive anyways. The dog had taken to sleeping between their bedrooms in the hallway. Something had woken Rob out of a fever dream, making his heart race. He grabbed his pistol and pulled on a pair of pants, even though he couldn’t hear anything. Opening the door to the hallway, he did not see the dog anywhere.

  “Ranger,” Rob said quietly.

  His dog would always come to him, but either he was not this time, or he was not right here. Rob thought maybe he might have gone in with Angelica or Harry, so he checked Angel’s room first. No Ranger. Next, he checked on Harry’s room. Harry’s bed was empty. Suddenly a dump of adrenaline hit Rob’s body. He rushed back to his and Angel’s room and thought for half a second about waking her, but decided not to. Instead he grabbed his AR10 and, almost as an afterthought, his vest. He was thinking more along the lines of having loaded magazines as an extra. Little did he know that last minute decision would change things dramatically.

  Rob figured Harry had left the house to go get eggs. The kiddo was the only one other than Curt and Andrea who had tested negative, and who had remained 100% healthy, so between the three of them, they had been taking care of the animals. Harry’s sleep patterns had shifted to a more second or third shift schedule without them meaning for it to happen, but as long as he stayed ahead on his s
choolwork online and did his chores, Rob didn’t mind in the short term.

  “He did take the dog though,” he said softly to himself as he pulled the vest on. “How much trouble can he get into?”

  Rob tiptoed out of the house, passing his mom who had fallen asleep in the recliner. He eased out of the door and then turned to the chicken barn, straining to see in the dark. Roscoe was probably at the doc’s house if he did not see him. That big goofy mutt had a lot of potential. He took to the training like he had been born and bred for it, but in the end, he needed a lot of food and a lot of sleep.

  Rob thought about hitting the flashlight, but after the month they had had here at the farm, if somebody woke up and saw a flashlight go on in the early hours of the morning, they might think something nefarious was going on. Instead, he let the moonlight, which seemed bright today, light the way for him. As he was getting closer to the chicken barn, he heard muted stuttering from the direction of the field where the cows were grazing. If the wind had not carried the sound, he may not have heard it. He puzzled at it, then opened the door to the chicken barn.

  “Hey Dad,” Harry said, surprised, a bucket of eggs in each hand.

  Fifteen

  Harry had quickly collected eggs and was headed to the door to go back to the house when his father surprised him.

  “Hey Dad,” he said, shyly, knowing he was probably in a world of trouble.

  “Hey yourself kiddo. You know what time it is?” Rob asked.

  “I don’t know, but I figured daylight is coming soon,” Harry told his father.

  “In another two or three hours maybe. Where’s the dog?”

  “Both Roscoe and Ranger went sniffing somewhere. I didn’t want to wake folks up in the dark by calling to them.”

  “Did you tell them to guard, like I taught you?” Rob asked, realizing his son was worried he had done something wrong.

  “Yes sir. But they went and went sniffing towards the hay field we just cut. I don’t think they went far.”

  “Probably not.”

  There were several loud sounds as something hammered the sheet metal of the building, then Rob was hammered right in the back, dead center of his ceramic plate. He went falling face first, knocking Harry back.

  “Get down!” Rob said, pulling his son close, covering his small body with his own.

  “The eggs…”

  “Chickens will make more, somebody is shooting out there.”

  Holes peppered the side of the barn. None were spaced together, but Rob had been in here enough to know they were brand new, despite it being dark outside. They both heard a man scream from far away, and then closer, a growl.

  “Ranger, guard me,” Rob said in a loud voice.

  “There’s a fucking dog out here,” a strange voice said.

  “There’s two, and they’re both huge,” a different one said.

  “Call off the dogs, mister, or we’re going to put them down.” A third.

  Rob shouted a guttural sounding word and suddenly the growling stopped.

  “Now how about you come on out,” one of the strange voices said, “and be easy about it. Don’t want you shooting at us again.”

  “I wasn’t shooting at you. Yet,” Rob said, still covering his son. “I just got shot in the back and I’m covering my son from any more bullets.”

  “You were hit?” one of the men asked. “We never fired.”

  “Look at the bullet holes near the door,” Rob snarled. “If any more shots come through the door or siding, I’m spraying all of you fuckers.”

  “Hold one,” a new voice said. “I’m coming in.”

  Rob turned and got in a kneeling position, his rifle covering the door. A man in blackout camouflage stepped in, shaking his head as he took off the NVD he had been wearing. He stiffened when he saw Rob was armed, but more so, that there was a kid in there, like he had claimed.

  “You’re in. Who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you here?” Rob asked.

  “Sir, we spoke with one of the owners several days ago about our visit, but first… where are you hit and do you need medical—”

  “It got me on the plate. Hurts like a sumbitch,” Rob spat. “Tell your boys to stand down.”

  “We have three teams roving the farm,” the man told him. “All of us are former law enforcement or military. I’m sure you know how—”

  “Támadás!” Rob shouted.

  “Támadás?” the man repeated, confused.

  Outside, both dogs erupted into growls. There were shouts and a man began screaming in a high pitched, almost kid girl voice. The agent who had come in to check on Rob started to raise his gun, but Rob burst into action. Bum rushing a man from eight feet away is easily accomplished if you have the element of surprise and you are fueled with insane amounts of anger and adrenaline. Rob’s shoulder lowered and hit the man in the sternum, bouncing his head off of the edge of the doorway. For good measure, he bounced the man’s face off his knee on the way down to the floor.

  “Get in the grain bin, stay down, and keep your head down, you hear me?” Rob told a wide-eyed Harry.

  “Yes sir,” Harry said, running for the far side, and climbing into the big wooden box that they stacked feed bags in. There was a hollow spot in the middle that he knew of. He hoped his dad would be ok. He could hear his dogs and men shouting.

  Rob saw his son get in the safest spot he could think of out in the barn, and slid outside, low to the ground, his rifle leading the way. There was a mass of moving bodies and fur about ten feet away with a man pointing a carbine down at the ground. With a start, Rob realized that the dogs had three men down. Roscoe kept going between two men, dragging, biting, shaking his head and repeating. Ranger had a man high up in the armpit and was shaking him. There were dark pools and droplets all over. Without light, Rob knew that it was blood; he could smell it from here.

  “You shoot my dogs and I’m going to kill you,” Rob told the man who was trying to take aim.

  The agent moved in what looked like slow motion, the rifle coming up, up, up.

  “Don’t,” Rob shouted, but that’s all the time he had. He started firing first. One in the chest and one in the face, and the agent fell backwards.

  The unsuppressed gunfire startled everyone but the dogs. Lights turned on all over the farm.

  “I’m ok, Harry,” Rob shouted, then started giving the dogs commands to break off.

  It took them a minute, the excitement of a job well done was almost too much for them to bear, but finally Rob got them to heel just as one of the men rolled to his side, a hand reaching for a dropped rifle. Rob snap fired a round into the dirt, right in front of the man’s face. He screamed and rolled back away from it.

  “Hands up where I can see them boys,” Rob shouted.

  The sheriff arrived about the same time Lyle’s men and ladies did. They did not come the normal way either, they had all ridden horseback, and all were heavily armed. More so than the five-man team they had walking in front of the horses towards the light.

  “What the ever-loving fuck is going on?” Sheriff Robertson asked. He’d been the first to arrive as lights and sirens lit up the night in all directions, all converging on the farm.

  “You want to go first, or you want to check these guys out? Some of them resisted pretty badly and I know I had to chicken wing one right into a broken arm,” Lyle grunted.

  Sheriff Robertson looked from one side of the group to the other and sighed. “Is that where the rest of the farm is? The medical center?”

  “Yes sir. Lyle, much appreciated,” Anna said, glancing at the five men who were expertly tied up, with just enough slack in the ankles for them to shuffle. “Just so you all know, we had the Wuhan Flu here.”

  “We got our flu shots last week,” Lyle said. “I’m not worried.”

  Sheriff Robertson’s eyes got big because he’d forgotten that fact in all the excitement, and he made sure his mask was on tight.

  “Let’s go to the medical center
, and Sheriff Robertson, these boys have dead that’ll need picking up.”

  Andrea was working furiously with one hand, barking orders to Curt as she tried to save the man who Rob had knocked out in the doorway of the chicken barn. His helmet had probably saved him from a caved in skull, but he had started convulsing. The sheriff walked in and saw the doctors and Curt in a flurry of motion. Rob had his vest and shirt off, sitting on one of the hospital beds, his AR across his lap with two spare magazines laid out next to him from his vest. The vest itself was sitting on the foot of the bed with Rob’s Glock laid lovingly on top of it.

  “How bad is he?” Sheriff Robertson asked.

  “Bad enough we’re going to send him to Fort Smith. We are trying to stabilize him enough—”

  “Let me go, now dammit!” one of the black clad ninja wannabees yelled as he was dragged into the room.

  “You don’t lower your voice, you’re going to have a broken jaw to go along with your broken arm,” Dante said, barely looking up.

  “You can’t do this, we’re Feds. You guys are so fucked…”

  “How many dead?” another man asked, getting shoved through the door.

  “Charley team is gone man,” the mouthy one with the broken arm said. “Damn cow ran over everybody.”

  “Cow?” Sheriff Robertson said. “You mean Big Red?”

  “Yes sir,” Lyle said, pushing more men inside the doctor’s area. “They shot and killed Big Red. He’s so full of holes it looks like they used him for target practice.”

  “Everybody stop!” Sheriff Robertson said loudly. “Somebody tell me what’s going on, or I start hauling people off to jail for processing and I’ll tack charges on later.”

  “We were under orders,” the mouthy one with the broken arm said. “We were to assess the farm here and, if possible, secure the animals. We have a group an hour away that would roll in if we were able to take control of the situation. Instead, when we get here, we lose a team to a cow.”